


The Ghost Of You

by Sexyheisenbeast



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, But it's still hard, F/M, Flashbacks, Guilt, I'm taking justice for Petyr's wrongful death, Major character death - Freeform, POV Multiple, PTSD, Sansa has learned from the best, TV canon divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-01-08 09:15:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12251412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexyheisenbeast/pseuds/Sexyheisenbeast
Summary: Winter truly is here and the blood of a self-made man seeps through Winterfell's stones.Or does it?This is me exacting Petyr's justice. And if you stick with me, I swear to you this fic will be worth the read.





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Petyr and Sansa shippers everywhere](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Petyr+and+Sansa+shippers+everywhere).



> I wanted to write my take on how I think Sansa would truly feel during season 7. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoy this ride through the darkness inside my mind.
> 
> Feel free to comment and give me advice as to how I should continue, even though I've already drawn up how I want this to go.
> 
> Would love the feedback :)
> 
>  
> 
> : I feel like We Don't Talk Anymore is more Sansa and Petyr's song, but this title stuck with me and will go well with this fic.

Blood.

There was so much blood.

Oft times she couldn't differentiate dream from reality.

It just kept spilling out of him, soiling his fine robes.

The noises that sputtered out of him were grotesque and the silence of the room only amplified them. A group of men were never so silent, they could have been down in the crypt again surrounded by the men made of stone.

He writhed in front of her, hand wrapped around his throat, somehow still fighting to slither closer to her.

She shouldn't have found pity in herself for him, but when his glossy grey eyes met hers, something shattered inside her.

And suddenly she's falling

Falling

Falling

But the ground never meets her.

"Sansa"

"Sansa"

"Sansa"

The voice changes from raspy to taut each time it rings through her head.

She's brought out of her thoughts when she feels strong hands on her chin.   
Her eyes refocus to reveal her half brother Jon standing next to her desk, worry written clearly on his face.

"Jon" she breathes, as if it's a question.

He smiles light-heartedly at her   
"I thought we'd lost you for good this time."

Sansa remains silent, his smile fades.

"Bran and Arya would love to see you"   
He pauses to see if this changes her current state, to no avail.  
"But, if you still aren't feeling well, I can have supper brought up to you."

Sansa nods and before he turns to leave, he places a kiss to her forehead.

She shudders at the act, squirming in her seat, trying to focus on her breathing.

He stops and wants desperately to apologize, and for it to erase everything his sister has had to go through.

Instead he leaves as quietly as he came, shutting the oak door behind him.


	2. Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting down to the real feel of how this fic is going to go.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter to my first Petyr and Sansa fic, for anyone who has been waiting for it :)
> 
> Once again, I welcome suggestions and pointers on how I can become a better writer in my work. Please feel free to leave feedback on this chapter, I love to hear from you guys :)

Finally dawn broke, casting the shadows that were consuming Sansa through the night away, back into the corners of her chamber where she wouldn't see them again, until night closed in, as it always did.

The nights were growing longer, Sansa noticed to her dismay. Winter had come, just as her father had promised years ago.

Safe behind the walls of Winterfell, her childhood home didn't have the warm welcoming atmosphere she longed for in her heart. The grounds she once ran and played about in, now haunted her day and night.

Everywhere she looked, she saw the bright smiling faces of those she loved, now long dead.

 

Perhaps fresh air would do some good, having been closed away in her chamber and study for Gods knew how long.

 

Her feet carried her to the only place she ever found refuge, since she was a little girl who dreamed of knights and princes.

She might not believe in them now, after everything that has taken place, but Sansa couldn't deny that having the Old Gods of her ancestors watch over her made Sansa feel like she was home. A time much happier and full of life and promises, where her siblings, mother and father still breathed.

 

Bunching up her skirts to brace for the cold, she seated herself in the Godswood to greet the chilly morning. Flurries scattered through the air drifting towards the ground. A squirrel ran from somewhere to someplace else, causing Sansa to wonder who was going to survive this winter. And who else was going to die.

A sound Sansa hadn't heard in a long while filled the air.

 

Birds.

 

Sansa had almost forgotten how beautifully they sang, with war raging on all around her.

 

 

"Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

 

 

Sansa's heart stopped, she swore everything froze in time around her. The snowflakes hovered in mid air, never reaching the ground.

 

It couldn't be.

 

The sound of feet trekking through the snow betrayed her. She felt the temperature drop each time a foot fall came closer.

 

 

"Mind if I join you,  _Lady Sansa_?"

 

 

She saw his boots at the edge of her vision, refusing to look up at him.

 

_This can't be happening, this can't be happening._

 

 

"You aren't real."

 

 

She could almost hear the smirk that broke across his face.

 

"Oh Sweetling, I'm more real than your relations to that false King In the North." He chuckled darkly.

 

 

Her mind was racing, a swirl of emotions bubbling inside of her. She squirmed on the tree stump, struggling with how to react, holding her face in her hands.

 

"This isn't real." She declared between breaths, voice trembling with every word. "I must be dreaming. I sentenced you to die, I _watched_ you die."

 

The rapid thumping of her heart ceased when a strong ringed hand cupped her chin, the rest of the figure knelt down in the snow before her.

 

Those unmistakable grey green eyes bore into her, never wavering, forcing her to look back at him.

 

A long beat passed, neither speaking nor breaking eye contact.

 

With the feel of his skin touching hers and the hint of mint filling her nares, Sansa was ready to accept that this wasn't a vision. That her mind wasn't playing her for a fool. All until that trademark grin crossed his face and he rose, leaving her behind.

 

He stopped in his tracks, his cloak dusting the ground as he turned to face her once more.

 

"You know that isn't the truth."

 

With the growing distance between them, Sansa was running out of time to find answers. Was she dreaming? Was that dangerous man who made her mind race with a single passing brush of their cloaks, dead?

 

"Petyr!" Sansa cried

 

"Petyr, come back!"

 

"Petyr!"

 

She could hear his chuckle echo from the towers and a shiver ran down her spine.

 

Trying to wrap her mind around what she witnessed, Sansa thought she could hear her mother calling out for her.

 

She shook her head and the snow resumed falling, the birds had flown home to their families. The voice of her knight broke her out of her thoughts.

 

"Lady Sansa!"

"Lady Sansa, are you alright?"

 

Taking a deep breath, Sansa straightened, wiping her tear streaked face.

 

"You're back from Kings Landing?"

 

A look of concern clearly written on her face, Brienne said nothing and continued.

"Yes, and I have some.... news."

 

"What is it?" Sansa asked curiously, crossing her arms.

 

"Jamie Lannister has returned with your brother and I."

 

Sansa didn't know how she should respond to such information. Why would a Lannister be here, in Winterfell?

 

"Why?  _Has Jon taken him hostage_?"

 

"There's a grave war headed our way Lady Stark, and believe me, we need every man we can get."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Drowning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've all been waiting for.
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
>  
> 
> ~

Snow covering as far as the eye can see; seemingly untouched by man, a blue in the sky harboring an eerie hopelessness overhead.

 

A reminder to everyone of the coming threat drawing nearer every hour.

 

The wind cut through her, chilling her down to the bone. Perhaps it wasn't in her blood after all.

 

His words nettled inside her, mind ever racing.

 

_Can I do this?_

 

_Can I play the game?_

 

~~_Is it a game?_ ~~

 

"Lady Stark" One of her guard announced.

"Everyone is in the Hall, as you requested."

 

Taking a deep breath to try and steel herself, Sansa clenched her fists and neared the hall.

 

The room was dark, faintly illuminated by the shallow windows and lit candles.

 

Kindling crackling in the hearth was the sound she chose to focus on to keep her breathing steady.

 

Her heartbeat anything but.

 

When she heard the side door click closed, it was all Sansa could do not to gasp for breath.

 

Looking up from the oak table, she stood her ground. _What was left of it._

 

"Now that we've won back our home, in my brother's stead, it is in my hands to defend it and my family from those who would betray us."

She paused, but no one dare speak.

 

"You stand accused of attempted murder and treason."

Taking a breath she hopes is silent.

"How do you answer for these charges"

 

_It's time._

"Lord Baelish?"

 

The sly smirk on his face vanished, a glint of light flashed across his eyes that no one else would be able to see.

_What are you doing?_

 

Scoffing, he replies cooly "Forgive me Lady Sansa, but I haven't the slightest clue what you are accusing me of."

 

"I am speaking of when you hired an assassin to kill Bran in his bed with-" the cling of metal rings as Arya holds out the Valyarian dagger "this dagger. _Your_ dagger."

 

"My Lady, that _was_ my dagger, before Lord Tyrion won it during a bet we had. And as for that charge, do you truly think I'd kill a sickly boy? You've-"

 

"And the act of treason was against my Lord father Eddard Stark, when he tried to claim Joffrey as the bastard son of Cersei and Jamie Lannister." She interrupted.

 

"I did nothing of the sort my Lady, surely you-"

 

"Bran is a Warg. He's shown me through his own eyes, you held this knife to my father's throat."

 

His mouth works before he replies. "My Lady, what I did was all I could do to survive. I'm sure you could understand, having been in a similar situation yourself. I did as Cersei bid. It was never my intention for your father to die. You must believe me."

 

He approaches the table, Arya's grip on the knife tightening.

 

He lays his hands on the table, eyes showing a side of him that Sansa's never seen before.

 

Biting his lip, he speaks directly to her.

 

"Sansa, please. You know me, I've been beside you all this time."

 

His eyes searching frantically for hope of an escape.

 

"This is not what I want, but what honour demands."

 

His mouth drops open as he goes to stand. Turning to his men.

 

"I am Lord Protector of the Vale, we're leaving for the Eyrie. Now."

 

"Not on your command, Baelish. I wont have you anywhere near Lord Robin, you are not to be trusted."

 

After circling the room and finding there's no way out, the proud mockingbird stands before Sansa once more.

 

"Before you carry out my death sentence, I would like to say my final words."

 

Not knowing what he could possibly have left to say, or why she even considered it, Sansa nodded her head.

 

A sharp intake of breath, he collected his thoughts.

 

"Sansa, I've watched you grow into the woman you are today and being blessed by the Gods with that opportunity, you've captured my heart."

 

Another breath

 

"Sansa, please don't do this." His voice cracked with emotion.

 

"I love you. More than her, more than anything."

 

Breaking eye contact, with all the strength left in her, Sansa turned to her sister.

 

Try as she might, she failed and had to watch the scene play before her.

 

His eyes never left hers, even as his own dagger sliced across his stubbled neck.

 

A tear escaped her eye, betraying her.

 

She couldn't have a lapse in control, not now. 

 

He crumpled to the floor, his crimson blood spilling out of him, his hand doing nothing to contain it as it coated the floor.

 

He writhed in front of her, somehow still fighting to slither closer to her.

 

She shouldn't have found pity in herself for him, but when his eyes met hers, something shattered inside her.

 

And suddenly she's falling

 

falling

 

falling

 

Her knees hit the ground, but her skirts aren't dampened by the snow beneath them.

 

She isn't outside the walls of Winterfell, she's on the unforgiving floor of the Great Hall, kneeling beside her foe.

 

Her mentor

 

Her savior

 

Her friend

 

Her lover.

 

Yes, that's why she's knelt in front of her house's bannermen, trying and failing to comfort the man she sentenced to death as he bleeds out before her.

 

His eyes were wide with the knowledge of his own mortality only moments ago, but now there's a surreal amount of peace in it's place when he looks up at Sansa looming over him.

 

Her arms wrap around the fallen man, cradling his head in her hands, running her fingers through the silver of his temples.

 

He gurgles what sounds like her name, reaching his hand out to clasp hers and she lets him.

 

"Shhh" she soothes him "It's okay." The tear streaks on her face displaying anything but.

 

They are alone now, Bran and Arya shouted the old men off all the while scowling at their sister.

 

None of that mattered now.

 

Propped up against her, his hand was trembling in hers.

 

"Petyr"

 

Delicate porcelain hands wove through the air and connected with his cheeks.

 

The look in his eyes, the brush of a thumb and she was lost.

 

Perhaps she always had been.

 

Her head bent forward, capturing his quivering lips with her own. Pulling him forward, clutching at his back as his lips melded with her own.

 

His tongue pleaded for access and she granted it willingly.

 

Sansa had closed herself off after she escaped Ramsay, but now every nerve ending sang, her body tingling in a way it never had before. Why hadn't she given him a chance until now.

 

He pulled away from her, fingers twining in her fiery locks.

 

"I'm so sorry Petyr."

 

Moments from death, choking on his own blood, he smiled a genuine smile that touched his eyes. Wiping her tears away, Sansa felt him press something into her hands, closing them together.

 

"I've taught you well." She can almost hear him rasp in the back of her mind.

 

She watched his eyes close, his hand slipping off of hers.

 

 

 

He was gone.

 

 

Sansa cradled his lifeless form to her chest until her sobs grew frantic enough for someone to hear.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Alone in her chambers, torn from the man she'd denied her feelings for, she drowned.

 

In her tears and his cooling blood.

 

Finally opening her blotchy eyes, she uncurled her fists.

 

 

 

His mockingbird pin, coated in red.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being that Dec 14 is tomorrow, I couldn't leave my fic where it left off in the last chapter. Hopefully you enjoyed what little I wrote for these two.
> 
> If the Net Neutrality bill isn't passed, this fic will get a lot more interesting. And I have started to work on a fluffy smutty fic for this lovely couple based off of a hot dream that I had.


	4. Hard Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas!
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful day :)

Fire from the lit sconces and hearth gave the Hall a warm glow, even on yet another cold night.

 

His men closing the door behind him, Jon finds his siblings seated as he requested.

 

It was a hard thing lately, to summon them to something as simple and domestic as supper. Bran with his visions and Arya being scarce most of the time.

 

"It's nice to see you all." He beams, sitting at the head of the table.

 

"Let me guess, she isn't going to be joining us, again."

 

"Come now Arya, death- death affects us all in different ways. We need to give her time."

 

"Death,  _really_ Jon? Stop being so naive. She was in love with that monster!"

 

"Enough Arya."

 

"It's a good thing I blackmailed her into it." She admits ignorantly, a smug grin on her face.

 

Jon's hands grip the table. "You what?!"

 

"If I hadn't, that traitor would still be lurking in our home, plotting his next move."

 

 

"Baelish, no matter what his motives were, was a good ally to have Arya! We needed his men! You could have confined him to his chambers to keep him compliant. Damn it Arya!" He slams his fists on the table in outrage.

 

"I didn't realize we were so desperate to get into bed with our enemies." Arya replies, completely unaffected by her brother's actions.

 

Taking a breath, Jon tries to explain.

 

"Do you not understand how dire the situation is right now? The Night King is coming and if we don't somehow stop him, everyone will die, everyone."

 

Her lips pucker, letting his words sink in.

 

"And what about you Bran, did you have a hand in manipulating your sister as well?"

 

"He tried to kill me, he held a knife to my father's throat."

 

Jon's brow creases "He was my father too Bran, I know-"

 

"You aren't a Stark." 

 

 

Even Arya can't find a word to say.

 

"What?"

 

"You are the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, you are a Targaryen and the true heir to the Iron Throne."

 

"But, that can't be-"

 

"I am the Three-Eyed Raven Jon, I saw it. Rhaegar and Lyanna married in secret and she died by my father's side after you were born. He promised her that he would raise you and keep you safe so Robert Baratheon wouldn't murder you."

 

This was so much to take in. Jon had never been much of anything his entire life, and now he had seven kingdoms to rule.

 

With Daenerys

 

 

His _Aunt_

 

 

Silence seemed to draw out forever until the scrape of a chair echoed off the walls.

 

"I- need a moment."

 

Arya vanished, bumping into Jamie on her way out.

 

 

"What did I miss?" He asked with a grin.

 

Jon cleared his throat, putting the new information he was given away, for now.

 

"Sir Jamie, we haven't discussed strategy since we left King's Landing."

 

Jamie seated himself beside Jon, making himself right at home.

 

"We have not, so, how do we begin to cut down an enormous army of the dead?"

 

"I still had men defending the Wall when I left with Daenerys, but I know they wouldn't be able to hold them off, the army is probably on their way to Molestown, we're next after that."

 

"The Wall has been breached, is that what you're telling me?"

 

Jon sighs, clenching his fist in his hand.

 

"The Night King killed one of Daenerys' dragons."

 

 

Jamie blinks.

 

 

"What's our next move?"

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the slow revealing chapter, I'm sorry if you are disappointed. The next one should be better.
> 
> I know what it's like to read that one agonizing chapter where your favorite characters don't appear and you struggle through reading it to get to the goods.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. A walk with a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mini hiatus guys, my mom has been in and out of the hospital with her pregnancy and inbetween helping with my 3 y/o brother and getting at least 6 hours of sleep, I haven't had much time or energy to write.
> 
> Anyway, here is chapter five and I hope I didn't cram too much into one chapter, but I'm sure you will be the judges of that ;) 
> 
> I hope you like! We're getting to the exciting stuff next chapter!

Light reflected off of the waters and through a porthole across the cabin warming Sansa's face, willing her to smile.

 

She was finally out of the Capital, away from the clutches of the lions and 'Sailing home' as Lord Baelish put it.

 

_Lord Baelish_ , she musn't keep him waiting. He'd gone through great lengths to whisk her away from her enemies and she didn't want to seem ungrateful for all he'd done for her. Surely he had woken by now and was already breaking his fast.

 

After searching for a bit, Sansa found an exquisitely carved wooden trunk underneath her bed. She decided on a flowy lilac gown and pulled on a white shawl to ward off the chill that had been running down her spine since he pulled her aboard.

 

Strangely, the contact wasn't unwanted.

 

 

Sansa braided her hair the best she could without a handmaiden and left the sanctity of her temporary room to find him.

 

It didn't take long, she could hear him japing with a crewman on the main deck. When Sansa walked up the staircase, the sun blinded her for a moment, causing her to lose her grip.

 

A pair of strong hands caught her, helping her up.

 

She knew it was him.

 

 

"Good morning Lady Sansa"

 

"It sure is a bright beautiful day, isn't it My Lady?"

 

She nodded, still covering her eyes to protect them from the light.

 

"It's a good thing I caught you, we wouldn't want you falling and injuring that pretty little head of yours now, would we?"

 

Her eyes had finally adjusted and she could see him now, dressed in light colors not so different from her own, it felt strange to see him dressed so casually. Perhaps he was only this way when there was no one around to scheme against him.

 

"No, Lord Baelish." She noticed his brows crease and his eyes crinkle at her words. 

 

"Petyr." He corrected her, his hand still holding gently onto her side leading her forward. "Come, I've already had breakfast made for us."

 

Sansa couldn't believe her eyes, there must be a kitchen aboard to make all of this food. An array of breads and cheeses sat on one corner of the table, a bowl of various assorted fruits in the middle and, last but not least, her favorite, lemon cakes were set out beside her own place.

 

Mouth agape "Lor- Petyr, I couldn't, this is- this is too much." 

 

"Sansa, please, I insist. I know you haven't had a thing to eat in days and look, I've even brought lemons from the Capital specifically for you. Lemon cakes are your favorite, aren't they?"

 

"Yes, but-"

 

"Good." Petyr pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit before pushing her chair in, seating himself across from her.

 

"Now Sansa" He paused, forcing her to look up at him. His hands were interlocked, elbows resting against the table as he eyed her.

 

"I can't eat all of this food by myself and if you don't eat any, it's all going to go to waste."

 

Sansa glanced down at her hands, then back up at him.

 

"Please eat. It would make me very happy if you did." And she could see nothing in his smile or eyes that held anything other than the truth.

 

She reached her hand out for a slice of bread and noticed Petyr's form immediately relax.

 

"I will eat-" She mustered up the courage while buttering her bread "if you tell me where we're going." 

 

_She has grown since we last spoke_ , Petyr smirked and grabbed an apple out of the basket. "Why, we're going to the Eyrie of course." He answered, taking a bite. His eyes motioned at the bread in her hand, back to her eyes.

 

A deal is a deal, even if she couldn't think about eating.

 

"Lysa Arryn is your only blood relative left, which is naturally who you should be living with. You will stay in the Eyrie with she, your cousin Robyn and I, under the protection of the Vale. You will be safe there."

 

Sansa still couldn't find words to express how she was feeling.

 

"We'll talk more after you eat."

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa ate her fill, she hadn't eaten that much food since King Robert arrived at Winterfell.

 

A lifetime ago.

 

She didn't have long to dwell on it though, Petyr asking for her arm to join him.

 

The table was left long forgotten as he showed Sansa around the ship. He wanted her to be aware of where everything was, it would be a week long trip he had told her, all dependent on the weather.

 

 

"And here are my quarters. If you can't find me anywhere else, I will be in here." She nodded her head in understanding.

 

He took her hands into his own and peered into her eyes, making sure she was listening to him "Sansa, should you ever need anything, you can come to me. I will always try my best to help you."

 

She studied his eyes for a moment, searching for a hidden motive before answering "Thank you, Petyr." When she found none.

 

He smiled at her, brushing his thumb against her knuckles "There's one last thing I want to show you."

 

 

The flight of stairs seemed like it would never end and Sansa was grateful for his hand in hers to help lead her.

 

When they reached their destination, Sansa gasped.

 

 

They were standing at the front of the ship and Sansa could see just how fast they were really going as the ship passed a harbor.

 

Caught up in the beauty around her, she slipped her hand from Petyr's and ran to the edge of the ship, leaning over to see her own reflection looking back at her. The waters were so clear that she could notice fish swimming underneath.

 

"It's beautiful! I've never been on a ship before." She smiled at Petyr as he moved to her side.

 

It warmed his heart to see her face light up again, even more so at the fact that it was all because of him.

 

He watched her for a few beats, wanting to capture this moment in his mind. The way her fiery locks danced in the slight breeze, how her cheeks dimpled up at her smile. 

 

 

"Petyr" She turned to him, gaining his attention.

 

"Yes sweetling?" He moved closer to her so they were a mere arms reach away.

 

"What is my Aunt Lysa like?" Her eyes met his.

 

 

She was ready to talk.

 

"Are you nervous about seeing your Aunt again?" He grinned, knowing damned well that Lysa would be a problem.

 

"Well, I haven't seen my Aunt in so long. I don't think she'll like me."

 

Petyr chuckled "No, she won't. But don't worry yourself over Lysa. I know how to handle her."

 

That mischievous smirk of his broke across his face and just when she was about to ask him why, three loud knocks on her chamber door woke her.

 

* * *

 

"Lady Sansa, it is me. I would like a word with you if you have the time."

 

Brienne, always worrisome over her well being.

 

"I will be out in a moment." She replied, pushing the furs aside to dress herself quickly.

 

Unlatching the door and pulling it open, the light was always a sudden shock compared to the darkness in her room.

 

"Good morrow My Lady, I hope I didn't wake you."

 

"No, it's quite alright Brienne. To what do I owe your visit?" She replied, slipping back into her role.

 

She noticed Brienne was leading her to the yard. "I don't wish to intrude My Lady, but I feel we should talk about what happened the other day."

 

Sansa stopped in her tracks when she saw him.

 

 

"My, Little Bird, you've grown since we last spoke." This had to be the first time she had ever seen him smile.

 

"Clegane? Is that really you?"

 

"Who else would I be? Silly girl." He laughed

 

"It's lovely to see you, but why are you here?"

 

"I met your sister Arya on the road, I was trying to bring her to your family when all the seven hells broke loose at the Twins. Gods, I'm sorry Little Bird."

 

She closed her eyes, it still hurt. She didn't think it would ever stop.

 

 

"After trying the Eyrie to deliver her to your Aunt, I found out that _she_ had died as well. On the road we ran into that giant over there-" he pointed to Brienne "And she beat me half to death, convinced I was still working for the Lannisters. After that, Arya ran away and I lost her. I crossed paths with Beric Dondarrion sometime after and now, here I am, working with your brother against the dead past the Wall."

 

"You're still a knight if I've ever met one Clegane. And don't worry too much about Arya, she's here as well. I am glad to see you again after all this time." It felt good to know a friend had survived and was still living.

 

Sansa glanced over at Brienne, who seemed stunned at their familiar interaction "He's a friend Brienne, you don't have to worry about him."

 

"I heard you've grown since we last met. Marrying and killing Ramsay Bolton, taking back your home. And you caught that snake Baelish and sentenced him to death. With what he did to your family, that bastard deserved to die."

 

Taking a breath, she swallowed hard "He did, as did Ramsay. We might have won our home back, but the war is not over."

 

"You're right. Which is why your brother has planned a meeting for tonight to discuss our next step."

 

Sansa nodded "You should go see Arya, it will be a great surprise for her. She spends most of her time in the armory. If she isn't there, she's most likely running about in the woods."

 

Keeping his eyes on her, he walked over to Sansa and held his palm against her face. He understood what she was going through. Most of it, anyway.

 

"You're a strong bird now, don't let the past define who you are today. You've come a long way from the girl you were. You should be proud of that."

 

 

She knew he meant to lighten her spirits, but all she could hear were his words, only spoken in a different voice.

 

 

He kissed the top of her head before setting out to find her wild sister.

 

 

Brienne must have seen him leave because she returned to Sansa's side. 

 

 

"I know he means well, but I can't see it that way." She spoke aloud to herself.

 

"You can't see what that way,My Lady?" Her knight stood, confused.

 

"How could I ever be proud of myself for killing _him_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	6. Caving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's see if I brought this chapter justice. Let me know if you liked it!
> 
> Thank you for reading :)

It was unanimously decided during the meeting with their bannermen, that the next course of action was to build up the defenses of Winterfell with what little time they had left, before the white walkers touched down from the remains of the Wall.

 

Jon didn't know if Castle Black held off the Night King, no ravens had been sent in weeks.  He had to assume the worst and do what was best to protect his people.

 

The armory quickly became the busiest area inside their walls, five blacksmiths worked around the clock, hammering out swords and piecing together iron plates to board the gates with. They had enough food and supplies stored to last them through winter, well according to Jon, how long winter would be once the walkers were defeated.

 

No one left the castle anymore and no one arrived. 

 

 

 

Until three days later.

 

 

 

A guard was on patrol one afternoon when he spotted someone or _something_ approaching the gates. Not taking any chances, he called out for Jon who was luckily within earshot, he rumbled up the ladder to the top of the battlement, mouth dropping open at what he found.

 

"Lift him up, quickly!"

 

The levy was an afterthought to boarding the walls, if supplies or allies were to come, the system would serve it's purpose.

 

A loud thud was made as the body slumped onto the floor, the person obviously in pain and struggling to move.

 

When they rolled over, Jon gasped.

 

"Tormund? Is that really you?" Grabbing his arms to help him to his feet, Jon wrapped an arm around his torso while Tormund held onto Jon's shoulder with the other, they started to move towards the castle. "Fetch the maester!" 

 

"Jon" He coughed, still using what strength he had left to walk with Jon "You need to listen to me now. They are past the walls and they have a dragon!"

 

His whole body shook as he cringed from the news. "Are you the only survivor Tormund?"

 

Eyes avoiding Jon's, he finally admitted with sorrow in his voice "From what I saw, yes."

 

After Tormund was in good hands, the workload tripled to ready for battle and everyone was lending a hand.

 

 

All except one.

 

* * *

 

Clegane's conversation had rooted itself deeply in Sansa and the weight in her chest hung there like a useless dead limb. She found herself in the Godswood more often as of late. She was free to clear her mind there, to replay the events over and over in her head again without being disturbed or worrying anyone.

 

The cold air on her face made it easy to slip into her thoughts. 

 

With all he had done, all he had caused, surely Petyr deserved his death. He worked behind his king's back, offered his loyalty to the highest bidder and only chose to step in and help if he had something to gain from it.

 

She and Petyr both had a hand in Joffrey's murder. She was far from innocent herself.

 

Sansa shunned Arya and took Joffrey's side, she told Cersei of her father's plans to leave the Capital which ultimately led to his demise. She longed to leave King's Landing at any cost and the price was Joffrey and the Ser Dontos' lives.

 

Despite her better judgement and recent relations to him, Sansa found herself leaning into Petyr's kiss in the Vale and gods, no matter how hard she tried not to, she liked it. Sansa watched as Petyr pushed her aunt through the moon door and she felt nothing save gratitude for him sparing her life. She lied through her teeth to the lords and ladies of the Vale, looking at Petyr in askance ' _Have I done well_?' 

 

They had been student and teacher ever since, until she killed him.

 

Sansa shuddered, the cold was seeping into her bones. As she clung to her furs standing to leave, she noticed the sun was beginning to set. It was late afternoon and supper would be served in the Great Hall, but Sansa would never step into that room again.

 

Mounting the stairs to her rooms, Sansa shut the world out behind her and pulled the furs over her head, hoping that a dreamless sleep would soon take her.

 

* * *

 

 

The sounds of people shouting and armor clattering woke her. She was on edge, reminded of when Stannis Baratheon tried and failed to claim Winterfell against Ramsay. She watched from the window in Ramsay's bedroom, praying to the gods she no longer believed in that she would be saved, only to feel her soul shatter when the murderer crossed into the room, ripping off her clothes. She had to console herself, _Ramsay is long dead_

_And so is he_

Racing to pull on her robes, Sansa slipped on her boots and shut the door behind her. She had to find out what was happening, she was still Lady of Winterfell.

 

All of their people were circled by the gate, looking up at Jon who stood on the battlements. Sansa pushed through the crowd and climbed the ladder to find not only Jon, but Bran and Arya as well. Their faces wore the same stern look on their faces, keeping their eyes on whatever lay beyond the gates.

 

She turned to look for herself.

 

Only a mile away, she saw them. The white walkers were coming and with it, the Long Night. Sansa glanced at her half brother and could read him like a book, he didn't think they would survive, but they had to try. On her left, even Arya looked stricken. All her life, she had never seen true fear etched on her sister's face. Jamie Lannister stood on Jon's right and he was just as paralyzed as the rest.

 

No one moved as the army marched closer, it was so silent that Sansa wondered if they were already dead. None of this felt real. Jon was frozen in place and did nothing to slow or halt the army's advances.

 

It wasn't long until Sansa could see how terrifying the dead who walk really are. Flesh hanging from bone, some had none at all and were mere skeletons. There had to be a million of them, most armed with weapons and a few seated upon undead horses.

 

Out of nowhere, Arya gasped and Sansa turned to look at her, she was shaking her head, her eyes were pleading her not to look back.

 

Sansa didn't listen, she had to see why Arya would make such a sound.

 

That's when she saw _him._

 

 

His body wasn't decomposed at all, but was colorless and stiff due to rigor mortis. That glint in his eye was gone and replaced by the ominous blue glow of an undead soldier. Without his mockingbird pin to hold his robes together, they fell off of his body revealing the deep hole in his throat where Arya slit it weeks ago.

 

 

The world was starting to spin around her, Sansa could barely hear Arya call her name as she fell to the ground.

 

 

Everything went dark.


End file.
